


Come Pierce My Heart

by accrues, Erya



Series: Lucifer does Valentine’s Day [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Charlotte is terrifying, Chloe is a dork, Ella is adorable, Fluff, Humor, Look Ma, Multi, Poor Dan, Spoilers up to 3x13, Valentines, love quadrangle, ménage-a-cat, no warnings!, not polygone, polygon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accrues/pseuds/accrues, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erya/pseuds/Erya
Summary: Pierce is granted an outsider’s perspective on Lucifer’s Valentine’s Day ‘tradition’ (doing something once does not a tradition make, Lucifer). He doesn’t enjoy it very much.





	Come Pierce My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So we could be working on editing and proofing the next chapter of Between Faithfulness and Fearfulness or writing The Rapture but instead we apparently did this. Oops. #sorrynotsorry
> 
> This was meant to be a 1k one shot. Erya ruins everything (but then makes it better).
> 
> Vaguely follows on from Valentine's Dan, celebrating our new favourite love quadrangle. 
> 
> Spoilers up to 3x13.

‘What the hell is this?’

Marcus picks up the _thing_ on this desk with careful fingers, as though it could bite him. (In his ceaseless millennia of existence on Earth he has seen stranger things. The Devil wearing a star-spangled speedo comes to mind.)

He stares down at it, torn between confusion and disbelief.

It appears to be a card, covered in _sparkles_ and _glitter_ and was that detailing in _macrame_?

It’s also bright pink. Did he mention that?

‘It’s a valentine,’ Lucifer points out helpfully, as though it should be obvious. He taps at the shiny red heart with a perfectly manicured fingernail.

The heart, Marcus notes with vague horror, is anatomically correct, hand drawn and appears to be _bleeding_ , little cartoonish drops of blood depicted neatly as descending down the fold of the card.

Oblivious to Marcus’s silence, Lucifer chatters on.

‘You know, like the saint. Don’t suppose you ever crossed paths with him. A bit weird, enjoyed stroking my wings when we slept.’ He pulls a face. ‘Tad creepy, really.’

Belatedly, he seems to register Marcus’s - entirely understandable - confusion.

‘It’s a Valentine’s card,’ Lucifer spells out, insultingly slowly. ‘From me to you.’ He smiles, almost pityingly. ‘What, surely you didn’t think I’d forget to celebrate our love on this day of all days, dear husband?’

Now Marcus knows he’s almost certainly joking, but you never can be too sure with Lucifer. Sometimes he worries about the man’s (devil’s) grasp on reality.

Said Devil smirks down at him, resplendent in a dark grey suit. The vibrant red vest over the black shirt _should_ look ridiculous but - as with everything the idiot wears - manages to come off as somehow daring. It’s irritating.

‘Well,’ Lucifer says cheerfully, straightening up from where he had leant over Marcus’s desk - for no discernible reason besides stepping into Marcus’s space, he’s sure. ‘Must dash. Valentines to deliver, people to snog. You know how it is.’

And then he’s gone from Marcus’s office - leaving the goddamn door open, of course (despite Marcus’s repeated requests for him to do otherwise) and a bizarre, _hideous_ card in his hands.

-

He opens it twenty minutes later, out of what he tells himself must be morbid curiosity.

On the inside, in smug scarlet near-calligraphy it spells:

 

_To my darling Pierce-y on Valentine’s Day,_

_Roses are red, violets are blue.  
You killed your brother, hope you kill mine too. _

_Love (eternally!)_

_Lucifer_

...

Marcus doesn’t even know why he’s surprised.

-

It’s oddly (read: wonderfully) quiet for a while after that - Lucifer presumably off to aggravate his long-suffering partner or Espinoza - and Marcus actually manages to get some work done for a change.

Until Ella Lopez puts her head through the door.

Marcus suppresses a sigh and steels himself for yet another bubbly chat with the irrepressible Lopez. It is sometimes a daily struggle not snap at the sheer level of… _perk_. Between her and Lucifer he has no idea how he has not yet died of sheer exasperation, but who knows, he thinks grimly - maybe that will be Lucifer’s next attempt.

‘Heyy, Lieutenant!’ She beams into Marcus’s neutral expression. ( _Not_ ‘Resting Pierce Face’, whatever that means. Marcus doesn’t have a ‘face’, resting or otherwise.)

‘Lopez,’ he greets, flatly. ‘Did you need something? Something case-related, maybe?’

He hopes his veneer of professionalism will deter her, but apparently this is not to be.

‘Aww,’ she says, happily ( _how_ is she always so _happy_? It’s almost indecent). ‘That’s so sweet for you to offer! But nah, just dropping off some love.’

Love?

She beams again and promptly produces yet another gaudy red card. She’s wearing a light sweater that somehow perfectly matches the card - up to and including the _love hearts_ \- and smiling with a frankly terrifying weight of sincerity.

‘Happy Valentine’s day, Lieutenant!’ She chirps.

Marcus stares at her.

‘That’s really not necessary, Lopez,’ he says as quickly as he can, but she’s in the room before he can even open his mouth, and then the card is on his desk, as though mocking him.

‘Aw, you got one from Lucifer!’ Her whole face lights up as she reaches across to snatch up Lucifer’s heart-shaped cardboard. ‘Oh my god, it's anatomically correct! That's so neat!’

Marcus tiredly watches the glint of light flash from her crucifix as she moves, the way her dark hair swoops across her forehead. She’s so young and bright it practically _hurts_.

Her sudden frown is unexpected, until he remembers exactly what Lucifer had written inside the card. ‘Oh,’ he says, lamely. ‘Yeah, I think he was making some kind of joke. You know Lucifer.’

‘Yeah, but,’ her warm brown eyes flash up to meet his. She looks, he notes in distant surprise, oddly serious. ‘I know how much- I mean, I obviously don’t know how much ‘cause my brothers are still alive and you know not really, really dead-’ she stops herself, and winces in apparent horror at her babbling. Marcus sympathises - he, too, is horrified. ‘I mean, um, you know- joking about you killing your brother? That’s not really funny.’

It kind of is a bit (not that he ever plans to admit that to Lucifer), but then Marcus has had a great many years to cutivate his particular brand of gallows humour.

Unaware of his thoughts, Ella continues, almost touchingly concerned. ‘I mean, I know Lucifer can be a bit mean sometimes - man, you should have heard him when we thought my big brother was a crook! I mean, _Jay_? As if! - but he has a good heart, like a really good heart, _super_ deep inside, and-’

Marcus stands so he can reach out to grab at the card and also so he can hopefully stop her talking.

‘It’s fine,’ Marcus reassures her. He suppresses a flash of that ancient rising pain that always seem to come with evading and lying about his brother and seizes the card from her hand. ‘Thanks. For the card.’

He doesn’t look at it.

‘Okay.’ She looks a little hurt and he winces internally. Probably should’ve tried to be less abrupt - especially with Charlotte Richards skulking around. He’s tried poisoned coffee before as a cause of death - it wasn’t fun and it didn’t stick. He does not want to try it again.

Lopez still looks a little uneasy. ‘Uh,’ she says, empty hand now hovering at her side. ‘Sure. I mean, you’re welcome! I’ll just, um-’

And then she’s gone, and Marcus is once again left in his office.

With another stupid card.

_And_ his door’s still open.

Great.

-

‘Here.’

Marcus look up from the latest forensic report and blinks.

Charlotte Richards stares down at him, her already considerable height made all the more imposing by frankly ominous heels. She smacks something onto his desk.

With a sense of of vague trepidation, he looks down.

It’s just a case report detailing their recent conviction.

‘Oh thank God,’ he says in wry relief, bitterly enjoying, as ever, the irony of invoking that bastard.

‘What?’ Richards is frowning down at him, confused.

Marcus shakes his head. ‘Nothing,’ he says dryly. Before adding, ‘Glad it’s not another Valentine’s card, that's all.’

Richards says nothing in reply and Marcus looks up, half-expecting jab about his ego for expecting a card or a laugh (presumably at his expense).

Instead he is met by a look he could only term as ‘constipated’.

He feels a hint of dread. ‘What.’

Marcus did not think it was possible to shuffle in four inch heels, but Richards manages it.

Finally, and with an expression that indicates some degree of physical pain, Richards produces something from her purse and deposits it in front of him.

Marcus looks at it.

It looks back, via a disturbing illustration cat anime eyes.

‘What,’ he says blankly, ‘is this?’

Richards huffs from above him and then seems to find the view out his window very interesting.

‘Ella Lopez-’

Marcus holds up a hand in sudden comprehension. ‘Say no more.’

But Richards glares at him, apparently - and unsurprisingly - not remotely inclined to stop talking when her lieutenant indicated for her to stop talking.

‘Ella,’ she says sternly, ‘said that giving gifts was,’ she grimaces, ‘ _good_ \- and I am trying to be... good. Even to those who don’t deserve it,’ she says pointedly. ‘Like you,’ she adds, presumably in case she wasn’t completely clear.

Apparently taking his silence as a concession of defeat, she nods brisky to herself and snaps her purse shut. She smiles tightly and, with a voice dripping in condescension, says, ‘enjoy the card.’

And with that, she gracefully exits his office in a cold clatter of heels and a cloud of sharp perfume - leaving his door wide open in her wake.

Of course.

Gingerly, as though it were a live snake (actually, no - Marcus has nothing against snakes in general and venomous ones in particular - despite the whole myth thing with his mother. At least some of them kill quickly - probably quicker with Richards would) he picks up the card.

The thing was clearly selected by Lopez as Marcus imagines Richards would rather be caught dead than seen buying a card covered in what looks suspiciously like fluorescent kittens.

Or perhaps this is more of Richards’s petty revenge on him. Frankly, he preferred the coffee.

With a sigh of defeat and probably more than a hint of masochism, he opens the card.

Surrounded by pastel flowers and gamboling cats he sees Richard’s careful jagged hand.

 

_To Lt Pierce,_

_Happy Valentine’s Day._

_I apologise for the coffee. Ella Lopez tells me you were upset which clearly makes your conduct entirely acceptable._

_Do it again and you’ll regret it._

_From,_

_Charlotte Richards._

 

Marcus huffs before slowly closing the card and adding it to the (now sadly _growing_ ) pile.

‘So nice to be wanted,’ he mutters to himself.

The anime cat stares back.

-

The case - a deceased magician murdered the show’s ventriloquist. Only in LA - wrapping up two days ago leaves Marcus with a depressing mound of paperwork. That, combined with the fake (well- _real_ , but no longer accredited, turns out tenure expires after half a century, who knew) Oxford professorship he holds in order to get his hands on anything that might be vaguely related to his curse, and he’s still sitting behind his desk when 7pm comes around.

He’s just rolling his eyes and reading through a journal article about himself (well, not really - the translations are terrible and so the whole thing is spurious at best and outright slander at worst) so he can reject it under peer review (one of his few remaining pleasure in life) when Chloe Decker taps on his door.

‘Lieutenant?’

Marcus quickly swaps tabs on his browser - better not let her see him researching biblical history, not unless her wants to think him as disturbed as she no doubts views her partner - and pulls away from the computer. ‘What is it, Decker?’

‘Um,’ she bites at her lip, stepping through the doorway in that confident yet timid way she seems to have mastered. She groans and rolls her eyes at herself. Marcus just raises his eyebrows and waits. ‘Look. Maze is looking after Trixie so that Dan, Lucifer, and I can have the night out,’ she says nonsensically. What does he care about her child-care arrangements? (Even if she _does_ seem to leave her kid with a demon.)

She continues blithely, oblivious to his raised eyebrow, ‘something about the good parties not happening until two am anyway - so um… we were wondering. If you wanted to join? Only I-’ she shakes her head, correcting her sentence, ‘- _we_ know you’re kinda alone-’ she blanches. ‘Not that I’m assuming anything, it’s none of my business.’

She sighs and feints toward the door slightly, looking harried. ‘I should just go.’

What.

‘Are you,’ he frowns, uncomprehending. Then - ‘Are you… asking me to come out with you, Espinoza, and Lucifer?’

The idea is absurd.

Decker looks like she regrets asking. She swallows as if nervous, blue eyes wide, before seeming to steel her nerves. She nods firmly. ‘Yes.’

Well then.

‘That’s-’ he’s about to reject the offer, say something about being too busy or even just shut down the idea of a date like he had last time, but-

There is something about the weird stack of jaunty cards, half hidden under his files, the (entirely sad) string of hearts Lucifer had enlisted Lopez to help him hang in the bullpen, just visible through Marcus’s glass door. There’s also the fact that there are too many police officers pulling late hours tonight to avoid being alone this night out of all nights of the year, like Marcus will be tonight, just as he has every other Valentine’s night for the last-

‘That would be nice,’ he bites out, without entirely deciding to.

But Decker is already nodding, looking away, obviously disappointed and just as obviously trying to hide it. ‘Yeah, you’re right,’ she says, ‘I understand, I-’

Then she freezes. ‘Wait, really?’

She looks so startled that Marcus huffs.

‘Yes,’ he confirms, against his better judgement. This is a mistake, it’s only a matter of time before she dies just like-

He frowns, as another thought abruptly occurs to him. He draws away slightly. ‘Unless you weren’t being genuine. I have plenty to do here.’

‘No!’ She exclaims, before clearing her throat and saying, more normally. ‘I was, I just- I mean, last time you seemed pretty-’ she shakes her head. ‘That’s great. Uh, it’s this restaurant in Westwood- Lucifer’s already gone, something about knowing the chef - or maybe “ _knowing_ ” the chef, I didn't want to ask - but Dan and I were planning to drive together if you-’

‘I have my bike, I could meet you there?’ Best to have a way out that doesn’t rely on either the Decker-Espinoza family _or_ Satan himself.

‘Oh. Yeah. Right, of course.’ She bobs her head. ‘Um. Here are the details.’ She scribbles the name of the grill on her notepad and rips off the page. ‘I don’t know the exact address but you can always ask Siri.’ She smirks at him a little and he just shakes his head at her.

She goes to pull the door shut behind her, like a _civilised_ person, but pauses, chewing at her lip again. She turns slightly to face him, gaze sincere and _bright_. ‘I’m glad you’re coming along, Pierce. It’ll be good.’

After a moment, he gives her a short nod, not entirely sure how to respond, and her replying smile is brilliant. With a flash of blonde hair and blue eyes, she’s out the door, clicking it gently shut behind her as she goes.

He blinks and sits back down. He stares hard at the screen. As he does so he belatedly realises there’s something wrong with it. In place of the usual state department logo, his screensaver shows...

Lucifer. Naked. Pictured in what looks distressingly like a bed of rose petals.

Because of course it does.

A laugh is torn from his throat.

It sounds odd to his own ears, raw. Marcus - _Cain_ \- is not a man prone to laughter.

He hasn’t been for a long while.

_Well_ , he thinks wryly as he stands, powering down the computer.

A night out with Chloe Decker, Daniel Espinoza and Lucifer Morningstar.

What’s the worst that could happen?


End file.
